


We’re Gonna Die (die, die)

by JohnxHelen



Series: Pray to Whatever is In Heaven (please send me a felon) [3]
Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Dom!Helen, F/F, F/M, HERE THERE BE DARKNESS, John is VERY dark, Lots of rape/non con elements, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Nazis, Pain Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, S&M, Sleep Sex, Suspender Kink, TW:Nazis, Torture, fair warning to Joeliana fans: Joeliana is not endgame here, he loves seeing pain, joe and juliana get fucked up here, psychological and physical, switch!John, total sub!Joe, tw:rape/noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:48:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnxHelen/pseuds/JohnxHelen
Summary: This is the third part of the series Pray to Whatever is in Heaven (please send me a felon), and probably the last. I may do a fourth part, tying up loose ends, but I will have to see where 2019 takes me.Anyway, I hope everyone is well and having a amazing holiday season and New Year.xoxo hel





	We’re Gonna Die (die, die)

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: there will be a lot rape/ non con. If you are sensitive to this,DO NOT and I repeat DO NOT read onwards.

Over the next months, John and Helen manipulated Joe to be their perfect boy. They made recordings in a suave voice that went along this tune: Juliana Crain is your enemy and a whore. Your father is a traitor. Only John and Helen love you. They put them on while he was sleeping, so he could best absorb the information. He seemed to respond well, and John had let him move around without cuffs or a leash. 

One night, a heavily pregnant Helen was watching him in the room they’d set up for Joe. She was so pretty when she was about to bear their children. She also couldn’t have his cock, but he could excersise his arousal into another body. And that body would be the boy in front of him. Joe dozed on his bonds, but John noticed his body twitch and a scream of “Juliana!” 

His face grew into a dark, horrible smile. He would love making this man suffer. "That son of a bitch.” John muttered. He seemed to be making so much more trouble now that Juliana was here permanently. His wife said, “Make him ours.” “Damn right I will, honey.” he softened his tone. “But go upstairs. It’s going to be messy.”  
She stumbled going up the stairs, and he rushed to her side. At her appreciative gaze, he smiled. He patted her belly. 

This is the side that his victims would never see, nor would he want them to. John never wandered to build his character on kindness for Joe or Juliana. He wanted them to obey. He wanted them to love fearing him. But Helen, Helen loved doing that. Hell, she liked playing with pain, snapping his suspenders against his bare chest to ensure his total attention to her. Pain was a part of his devotion and understanding and love to her. No other person would get that, save her. He watched her go, and felt his internal self harden. The time had come for Joe to feel pain. 

 

He approached Joe, who was screaming from imagined suffering. “Joe.”, he whispered menacingly in his ear. His head bobbled to the other side, giving him the appearance of a victim of crucifixion. How dare he ignore the man who held his life in his hands. He walked away to another room, where he held a surprise. 

He pulled that from the room. She screamed for help.  
“No ones here to help, girl.” he said. John dragged her by her long hair in front of Joe. 

 

He turned to his prisoner, eyes burning with a desire for revenge and a want to own this man, be everything to him. And to his slut. He did not care if Kido wanted the girl back and it would avoid a war if he did, she also was his. And Helen’s.

Yesterday, she’d been put to work on worshipping his wife properly, but today she has been given a day off to coagulate the lessons she had learn. And today she would see what happened when she did not obey those lessons. 

He loosened Joe’s bonds and tossed him on the floor. He retreated a few paces to see his reaction. His eyes glimmered with anger. If he was not careful, Joe could fight him, which had happened once. But the boy was not as good at punching as he was at cock-sucking. 

“Come to me, boy.” John said, making a “come here”motion with his finger. He saw his boy smile and crawl over to him. In that moment, knew that he had won. The strategem to force her upon Juliana gasped in the background, but he ignored her. The bitch had to be made aware of her place in this household. Her place should firmly be below John and Helen and even Joe, because even a whore like him could at least follow orders. 

Juliana was different. It probably was that son of a bitch Hawthorne, telling her that she was special, had a “unnatural mind.” No, she did not. It was just her rebellious streak that could be fixed. That cure would come through the Smiths. 

“Suck my cock.” John commanded. Joe unbuttoned his pants, pulled his trousers down, and lowered his head to the phallus like he’d been tortur-um- taught. He bobbed his head on his length, making John leak precum into his cunt of a mouth. It was so beautiful to thrust into, his mouth was as wet as his wife’s and just as orgasm-inducing. He could not resist himself and unloaded himself upon his captives mouth. A haze crossed his mind. John did not care if Joe choked, as long as his semen came down his mouth. It was like he was giving him his children, to cultivate until the next time he got his boy on his knees and continue to raise the children maturing in Joe's stomach. 

“You see what happens to good girls, bitch?” He turned to Juliana, roaring at her. It was her fault that he had to whip Joe to get him to do what he wanted, break him down to his core to assemble Joe as his. Juliana did not respond, which John expected. She’d be harder to break than he thought. 

He kept angrily thrusting into Joe, harder and harder. Nevertheless, he kept meeting his captor/lovers thrusts by swallowing him down deeper and deeper. John felt some sort of love towards him germinate. Here was the man who hated him, swallowing him deeper because he knew his captor/lover liked it. 

“So good,Joe.” he said. John was never much on sentiment for his captives. But Joe somehow warmed into his heart, so he found himself breaking a cardinal rule of his own mind: never show emotion to your captors. Chastened, he thrust even deeper until he sensed a bubbling in his core. He bit down on his hand (screaming and moaning was saved for Helen, only Helen), and spurted gobs of white cum in his captives throat. Juliana sobbed and screamed, which John expected, but he did not anticipate her pussy to be wet or her legs spread open. He guessed Helen made her suffer to the point that pain emphasized her pleasure. 

Silently thanking his wife for her gifted mind, he knelt before her clamped-down legs. He smirked and inserted a finger inside her. It was extraordinary to see what one touch could do to a person. She writhed and moaned incomprehensible things. “You whore.” he said. “You love this. I know that.” One part of her tried to move away, but a look at Joe and his muscular arms restraining her immediately remedied the problem. 

He added another finger, holding his proverbial breath for a positive reaction in her. And there was; she moaned out supplications to the gods, which he took as a sign she was enjoying what he was doing to her. “Good.” he purred. He felt safe enough to insert his hardening cock inside her. She moaned, but John took off a part of his shirt to conceal her shrieks. Those would be reserved for him and him alone, not for her would-be lover. He was flooded by tight wetness and almost spent himself right there. Nevertheless, he kept plowing into her. 

He didn’t—couldn’t stop. She seemed almost made for him, like Joe and Helen. Her body fit with his, he never wanted to let her go. Ever. He plowed into her harder, faster than he’d ever dreamt of doing. “Oh yes, pretty girl, no, pretty whore.” he murmured in her ear. She gasped and still squirmed slightly, but Joe did something he had never expected from him: he slapped her, full across the face. Juliana stopped immediately, and slumped in his grip. “Good boy, Joe.” he mumbled. He cupped a hand on his face.

This was the closest he’d get to John’s lighter side in all the worlds he’d inhabit. He took the affection with a smile. He looked at his captive for a moment. Joe was a obedient man, once one broke him down, of course. And tonight, after a obligatory beating, he showed a rare affinity to conformity. He hoped that his captive’s proclivity would overtake him until he would have a eternally servile look in his face. 

He felt a fount of desire overtake him at the thought. Obedience to authority aroused him to no end. “Jules.” he whispered in her ear. He wanted to own her, know her like any of her lovers. So, he used her nickname as he came in her, hoping she’d have his child. She’d be bound to him more, and break all her decadent ties. 

A puddle of semen spurted onto the floor. Joe dragged her to it and growled ,“Lick.” Any signs of affection towards her had dissipated with the tapes. John, sitting on a chair like a throne, passively watched the spectacle. He trusted Joe now; the man had so beautifully displayed his loyalty to him and to Helen, so he did not have to guide him as much as he had to a few days ago. 

Once she had swallowed all the cum, distending her belly to that of his wife, , John chained her to the place where Joe used to be: on the wall. But first, she’d had to lick his boots. “Thank you, John.” she mordantly mumbled. She was slapped again. “No thank you, Jules.” he fired back. “Soon to be my pregnant Jules, if I get my way.” he whispered. The look of fright on her face was a sight to cackle at. Her eyes grew so wide as to retain a cartoon character. Joe also chuckled. His warped brain saw her as a whore, destroying his life when John had done that to him. Joe had not a clue about John’s destruction of Rita and Buddy, their bodies shredded into nothing. 

“Oh, you kill me, Jules.” he wheezed. She looked down, seeming broken. “Come on Jules, laugh for me. You people need some spice in your life.” Joe stepped closer, holding a knife to her neck. “Go on, for the Oberstgruppenfuher. He hasn’t had much to laugh at, you know.” 

Faced with a threat against her life, and wanting to play smart before she would attempt a escape, she thought of a happy memory: Frank surprising her with a puppy. She laughed like the best comedian in the world was on stage. “I’ll let you live, Jules.” he stated. He indicated that Joe should put it away. Nodding, Joe executed the Nazi’s order. 

He patted at his thigh for the man to bring himself to heel. “Upstairs, like a good boy.” John uttered. He crawled gingerly up the stairs, where he would curl next to the mother of his child in her sleep. She’d smile and cuddle him, moving a hand to his needy cock. What would follow would be the sanest sex he would ever have in his time at the Smiths. No chains were brought out, no brainwashing. Just a hand jerking his cock. 

John watched him go with a smile. He wanted to throttle the bitch until she died, but he had to be careful. He wanted another child from her. So, he mounted her sleeping form and kept thrusting. He came in her several times, sealing a baby in her. Then, he clomped up the stairs to see his beloved Helen, leaving Juliana to stew (quite literally) in her own juices.


End file.
